


Stay Golden

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 22:17:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol Marcus isn't stupid. She's <i>very</i> far from it, in all honestly. She isn't being pompous about it, and she doesn't like to talk about it, but she knows she's smart. So she isn't going to defend what her father did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Golden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashers_kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashers_kiss/gifts).



> Okay, I don't write het. I just don't. I haven't in over ten years. However, I just _love_ the idea of Bones and Carol (let's ignore David right now, okay?!). So, I had to write this. Also, ashers_kiss enabled me. Blame her.

Carol Marcus isn't stupid. She's _very_ far from it, in all honestly. She isn't being pompous about it, and she doesn't like to talk about it, but she knows she's smart. So she isn't going to defend what her father did. Hell, she wanted to give her life for the Enterprise and it's crew, and she would have if it had come down to that. She knows right from wrong, and what her father had done was wrong. The thing is, though, he _was_ her father.

No matter what he did to Enterprise, to Starfleet, to Khan...he was her father. He raised her, and he raised her well. She was polite, top of the class, the perfect daughter. She didn't want for anything when she was growing up, and as much as she hates to admit it, he helped pave the way for her career (but don't get her wrong, she worked hard to get where she is). So whilst she knows that her dad was in the wrong, and she knows what he did was beyond forgivable, but she's entitled to feel the loss, isn't she? She's entitled to mourn for the man that raised her to be the woman she's become, isn't she?

Some people might not see it that way, and Carol knows that. When it comes down to it, her father is to blame for not only the deaths that he caused by his own calls, but those at the hands of Khan. It's because of this that Carol does her best to hide how she feels. Not everyone will understand, and being the person she is, Carol isn't going to force it upon anyone, especially not those affected by the situation.

So she hides it from the captain, and from Mr. Spock. She doesn't talk to Uhura about it much either, regardless of how close they've been getting. She knows how bitter they feel, how bitter the whole crew feels. There's only two ways that telling people how she feels can go -- either they feel uncomfortable and pity her for being so stupid, or they get angry and annoyed at her for being so stupid. So she keeps it to herself. She doesn't have very many friends, and Christine can't visit as often as she'd like (plus, Carol wouldn't want her to be put out, she doesn't like a fuss). 

It's because of all of this that it's a shock when Carol finds a sympathy card in her mailbox one Monday morning. It's not the usual kind of Sympathy card, it's not holographic and it doesn't play some stupid hymns out at her, like the ones she received when her mother had passed away. It's just a little white card, no bigger than one of those old fashioned business cards that she's seen in movies. It's got a little gold bow on it with scratchy writing, and all it says is _Sorry for your loss._ There's no name or anything, and when Carol quickly opens the door to see who posted it there's no one there.

It's confusing, but slightly uplifting. She allows herself to shed a few tears whilst she gets ready for work, and when she arrives at Starfleet Headquarters, she smiles and takes her seat next to Mr. Spock and listens intently as the captain talks them through the Enterprise's progress.  
*  
It's a few days later that there's a rose sitting on Carol's desk when she gets into work. There's a little ribbon tied around the stem like a bow, and it's just sitting there on top of some paperwork. She pauses for a second before she rushes forward and picks it up. She stares at it for the longest time, and sniffs the soft scent of the petals. It's a few minutes before she finally sits down and places it gently in the top drawer of her desk.

With a smile, Carol makes a start on her work, barely paying attention to Dr. McCoy's report.

*

The next thing to appear is a little box of chocolates, and they show up on the hood of her car when she's about to leave work one night. The parking lot is almost empty, and there's no one around but a bored looking security guard. It's a white box with a gold bow, and there's a little white card attached to it that reads _Smile._ When she climbs into her car, she does.

*  
There's nothing for a few weeks, and Carol's quite surprised to find that she's saddened by that. She has no idea who was sending her the little gifts, but she misses them. She finds herself looking for them everywhere, but none show up. At least, not until she least expects it.

It's been a terrible day, and Carol just can't wait to get home and bury herself in ice-cream and terrible movies. She's managed to screw up a week's worth of log-sheets for the engineering crew, and she's three weeks behind on a report that Kirk has asked her for at least four times and she just keeps forgetting.

"Dr. Marcus, this isn't like you," the captain remarks when Carol drops a stack of papers. He bends down to help her collect them up, and Carol shakes her head. "Sorry, captain. I don't- I'm not...feeling too good."

Kirk straightens up and looks at her, handing the papers over. "Why don't you head on home. Get some rest, okay?"

Carol nods, because her throat is tightening up and she can feel tears starting to burn in her eyes. She quickly turns on her heel, and she limps back to her office. She hates that her limp always kicks in when she's most stressed, and she just wants to forget everything and just--

There's a stuffed blue teddy bear sitting on her desk. It's got a gold bow tie, and the sight of it makes Carol finally just stop and cry. She doesn't close the door, and she doesn't care if anyone can see. The sight of that teddy bear just melts her heart and suddenly everything feels alright again. Carol limps to her chair and falls into it, pulling the teddy into her lap. There's no tag on it, no gift label. The fur is soft against her skin, and she can't help but laugh at how grumpy the bear looks. It's brow is furrowed, probably a mistake at the factory, but it's cute. It gives it character, Carol thinks.

"Dr. Marcus?"

Carol looks up and sees Dr. McCoy standing leaning in her doorway. She quickly wipes her eyes. "Sorry, yes, sir?"

McCoy frowns. "Are you okay?"

Carol nods. "Yes, sorry." She wipes her eyes again, probably smearing her make up. "Rough day."

McCoy doesn't say anything, but his frown deepens he folds his arms as he leans against the door frame. "I thought those things were supposed to cheer people up?" He nods at the teddy, and Carol tightens her grip on it.

"Ah, yes," she says, a light laugh on her lips. "It did." She pauses for second before she looks up. "Doctor, how long have you been here?"

McCoy straightens up. "What?"  
"I mean, did you see anyone? In my office."

McCoy shakes his head. "No," he says quickly, before saying, "Jim told me I've to drive you home. He's worried about you."

Carol doesn't say anything, but she gives a small nod and starts to pack up her work. Normally she would decline, insist that she can manage, but just this once she's going to allow herself a small amount of weakness. Plus, it's only Leonard, he's a friend and a colleague, he isn't going to judge her.

It's a silent drive to her apartment, and Carol muses to herself about who could be her secret gift-giver. At first she'd considered it being a friend, Uhura or Chekov, because it's the kind of sweet thing they'd do, but then she thinks about the hell they'd been through and forgets that idea. It can't be anyone from the Enterprise, not with what her father put them all through.

When they arrive at her apartment complex Carol thanks Dr. McCoy and quickly makes her way inside. She sits her teddy on the kitchen counter as she pours herself a glass of wine.

"Grumpy," she mutters, smiling at the bear. "Perfect name for you."

She takes it easy for the rest of the evening, lying on the sofa with one of those terrible romance movies she loves on the big screen, lazily leafing through the paper work and reports for the week. She's got Grumpy cuddled up against her, and she's got a half empty bottle of wine beside her. 

She's about half way through one report when something makes her heart stop and she almost drops her wine glass. It's a note at the bottom of the paper that catches her eyes, the writing. There's something so familiar about it, and then it hits her. She's been looking at this writing for weeks, and talking to the owner of it almost every day. 

Carol grabs Grumpy from beside her and stares at his annoyed expression for a few seconds before she's pulling on her tennis shoes and is running out of the door.

*

Leonard McCoy opens his apartment door with a confused expression on his face. He's dressed in a stained blue shirt and his stubble is much more apparent that it was when he dropped Carol off earlier.

"Carol?" He asks, before his expression returns to it's usual worried look. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Carol doesn't answer, and she temporarily forgets that she's dressed in sweat pants and a hoodie that's probably well over due a wash -- she throws herself forward, grabbing the doctor's face in both hands and planting a kiss on his lips. She's not sure how long she's standing there for before she hears a cheer from somewhere behind Leonard.

Pulling away, Carol notices Jim Kirk leaning against a wall, a beer in one hand and the most amused expression on his face.

Carol can feel her face burning, and she turns back to Leonard, his face completely in shock. It's possibly the first time she's every seen him without a frown on his face.

"Sorry!" Carol cries, and she's suddenly ringing her hands. "I just. I realised you. I just...the gifts, the--" She breaks off and she searches for a non-pathetic way to word this.

"Oh," Leonard says, and there's blush crawling over his cheeks.

"Told you she'd work it out," Kirk calls, before taking a swig of his beer and walking back into the living room.

Carol doesn't say anything, and just looks up at Leonard.

"I just. You seemed sad." He says, and he runs a hand through his hair. It's greying at the sides, but it just enhances his features. Carol's never noticed that before. "I just wanted you to smile again."

Carol grins, and she shakes her hair out of her face. "I was. And I did. Thank you."

The doctor shrugs, but his cheeks are still red and Carol can't resist a giggle. "I named him Grumpy," she says. "The teddy."

That earns her a little smirk. "He's got character," Leonard says.

"He does," Carol agrees, and she almost jumps a little when she hears Kirk holler loudly, most likely at some sport on the screen. Leonard rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Sorry."

"No!" Carol says, and she shifts her weight from foot to foot. "I just showed up. Unannounced. I am sorry, I just...I wanted to thank you."

Leonard shrugs again. "It's no--"

"And to ask if you'd like to go to dinner." Carol cuts him off.

Leonard's eyes widen and he straightens up. He seems to splutter for a few seconds before he clears his throat and says, "Yes. Uh. That would be...yes."

Carol smiles, and she turns to leave, but turns back quickly to press a kiss against the doctor's cheek before she runs back to her car and grins to herself on the whole drive home.

*

On their first date, Leonard shows up to the restaurant with a bouquet of flowers, a ridiculous giant golden bow wrapped around them. Carol can't wipe the smile off her face the whole night.


End file.
